architecture was only part of the story.
Sixty miles northwest of Paris, our Seine River cruise ship tied up for the day and Alice and I had set off in search of a parish church. At the head of a non-descript block of rowhouses, we found the sooted and stained limestone façade of an old church dating to the 13th century. The Church of Notre Dame had seen better days: a row of half broken statues had been lined up to one side of the entranceway, and artwork was covered dust.
In France, religion is never done in half-measures. Seven of the nation’s national holiday’s bear religious titles. Medieval French churches have some of the highest towers in Europe, and the architecture of new houses of worship is wildly creative. Across the nation, churches are thronged with worshipers on Christmas and Easter. But the nation is also fiercely secular, and ordinary Sunday Mass attendance is threadbare. Many persons describe themselves as atheists but share an affinity with the church for family or cultural reasons.
In Les Andelys things have not always been that way. In the late Middle Ages, the large church had been a gathering point for crowds of pilgrims on the feast of St. Clotilde, a venerated French queen who built two monasteries here in early 500 AD. For centuries, the church hosted a convent school for daughters of noble families. All of this came to an abrupt end in the violence of the 1879 French Revolution. Discolored marks on the walls of the church gave evidence of the removal of church altars, statues, paintings, and furniture. In the course of the upheaval, some thirty thousand priests were driven from France, and hundreds of clergy and religious were executed.
Like the changing river, anti-religious sentiment shifted. In the mid 1800’s France experienced a resurgent sense of Catholicity. Vocations to the priesthood and religious life were numerous. Catholic schools, hospitals and social services were expanded. In Les Andelys, a hospital for pilgrims was busy and two large schools thrived. As many as twenty agricultural villages in the vicinity of Les Andelys had their own local church or chapel and as many as eight priests served the Notre Dame church. In 1905 the government closed virtually all Catholic schools in the country and almost all French churches became property of the state or local municipalities
Today, many view religions as a private, personal matter and the mention of God or Church in civic discourse is deemed unpatriotic. Secularism has taken a toll on urban but also rural communities. A prominent public figure recently explained that he only went to church for “baptisms, weddings, and funerals.”
Active Catholics are the exception. In Les Andelys, a town of 8000 inhabitants, there are few first communions and it is not uncommon for children on museum outings to ask, “who is that man hanging on that cross?” In the church of Les Andelys, once the centerpoint of a large faith community, there are only two Masses a week. Yet if you looks carefully, the currents of a living, worshipping Christian community can be found.
Near the church entry, a modest stone sign imbedded in a driveway wall reads “presbytere et centre paroissial” (rectory-parish center) directing the visitor to a modest complex containing an office, several meeting rooms (one of which, with a simple table-like altar, doubles as a chapel for daily Masses), and living accommodations for the clergy. Attached to the center are several young priests and two lay catechists provide ten town and village villages churches or cemters with the sacramental life. St. Clotilde Parish, as this consortium is known, is prayer- and service oriented, focused on one-to -one encounters, small group liturgies, and fellowhip gatherings.
Like the river, the French Church is evolving. For several years , there have been reports of unexpected developments in France’s larger cities: accounts of packed Sunday Masses and grass-roots youth movements inspired by Pope Francis. In the Archdiocese of Paris, 2,652 adults were baptized on Easter 2025. Yet, provincial towns such as Les Andelys the provinces, once thought to be the heartland of French Catholicity, are slower to recover. In spite of everything, however, the faith lives on: At Les Andelys the Gospel is heard, themystery of the bread and wine are celebrated, the poor and elderly are served. The little Catholic community of Les Andelys is in a difficult time, but in its efforts to surmount them it deserves to be admired, learned from, and above all, prayed for.
